


Too Late

by VivelaFrance24601



Series: Les Miserables Works Inspired by Songs [5]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Depression, M/M, Nothing is too graphic I just tagged it to be sure, Physical Abuse, This was only supposed to be one chapter for reasons unbeknownst to you :P, Whole fic is read as one chapter, poor jehan, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4574568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivelaFrance24601/pseuds/VivelaFrance24601
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Montparnasse is almost home, dinner isn't ready, and Jehan is scared.</p><p>Inspired by "Round and Round" by Selena Gomez.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings are in the tags. This isn't too graphic, but it is slightly dark, so please handle with care.
> 
> This is unedited because I'm too lazy to edit. All mistakes are my own.

Dinner wasn't ready yet, Montparnasse would be home any second expecting to be able to sit down and eat right away, and Jehan was scared to death.

It would have been better if it was a weekend and Montparnasse had been home all day, but it was Friday and those were never good days. Well, there were never any good days for Jehan anymore.

When he first got together with Montparnasse, it had been a wonderful, dream-like time. He was treated with such kindness and love. He was spoiled and given multitudes of gifts, and those few beginning months couldn't have been more perfect.

But then he moved into Montparnasse's apartment and everything went downhill from there.

Montparnasse stopped giving little gifts to Jehan, then it grew into the beginnings of ordering him around constantly, and then the kindness left Jehan's life completely.

He was slowly torn apart from his friends and isolated from all contact when his cell phone was taken away and he was restricted to the apartment. The only person he had contact with was the cashier at the small convience store on the street corner when he had to run out to get something for Montparnasse.

And then the beatings started to come.

"It's too late for that, Jehan! You've showed where you're loyalties lie, and they're obviously not with me!" Montparnasse roared while kicking Jehan over and over.

Jehan didn't have the power or the will to move, so he just layed limply on the floor, becoming more battered than he already was.

He cared no more for what happened to him amd almost cried out in joy when a heavy kick was landed upon his face and black spots danced into his vision. Maybe if he passed out, he wouldn't have to wake up. Now he found that he delighted in the kicking, forbeach sharp kick brought him closer to the sweet release of death.

But then the pain stopped coming. He felt no more kicks and he wondered why, so he forced his eyes to open, gazing dizzly through the spots in his quickly decreasing vision.

Montparnasse was above him holding the knife that Jehan was cutting vegetables with before Montparnasse came home.

Before he blacked out, he saw Montparnasse's arm swing down.

A bloody smile graced Jehan's delicate features; the last one he would ever give.

Jehan felt a sharp pain in his neck, and then he was no more.

Jean Prouvaire had finally found the sweet release he was waiting for.

They came when anything wasn't up to Montparnasse's standard, which was almost always. His whole body was covered in painful bruises, some even weeks old that still didn't completely fade, and other bright and blue and brand new.

But the beatings weren't even the hardest part of his new life. 

When Montparnasse had taken away all of his poetry notebooks and his special fancy fountain pens that he only used for poetry, he had been crushed. He could take the bruises and cuts and even the broken wrist he had once received, courtesy of Montparnasse, of course, but it was just cruel to leave Jehan without the creative outlet he had been using to battle his depression since childhood.

Poetry made Jehan happy when not even his friends couldn't, and since Montparnasse had taken away both of them, he was left on a downward spiral, not able to feel anything but an intense sadness that tore at his very soul, and now that Montparnasse was almost home and dinner wasn't ready yet, he fell into despair.

Sometime he asked himself why he didn't leave Montparnasse, but the answer he gave himself was always the same and always the truth: Montparnasse was the leader of the Patron-Minette, the local gang, and if he ever left, Montparnasse wouldn't hesitate to tell any of his fellow gang members to kill Jehan on sight. Sometimes Jehan wanted to die, but he didn't want his death to come from Montparnasse or any of the Patron-Minette. It would be a slow and painful death, so Jehan was wise in staying with Montparnasse.

The other question he asked himself was why he ever even fell for Montparnasse, and he knew the answer to that, too. He saw the kindness inside of Montparnasse, under his dark and cruel shell and that was all it took for Jehan to fall in love, so it was his own fault that he got into this mess. If he hadn't been so naive and had actually looked really hard at Montparnasse, he would have never had anything to do with him.

"Too late," Jehan thought. He was too late to leave and he was too late because he heard the door opening.

Montparnasse was home, and dinner still wasn't done, and Jehan was terrified.

He heard him taking his shoes off and heard a giant thud, meaning that he was sitting on the couch, expecting dinner to be brought to him.

"Jehan, dear, is dinner ready?" That question was more of a formality than anything else.

"I-It's g-going to be a little l-l-late t-tonight. I g-got a bit of a l-late s-start." Jehan's voice shook as he spoke, knowing that something bad was going to be coming soon.

He was right. He heard Montparnasse pulling himself off of the couch and he almost jumped in fear when his looming form appeared in the kitchen.

"And why did you get a late start?" Montparnasse asked, a hint of a threat in his voice.

"I-I was just watching t-television for a few m-m-minutes. There was a rally t-today." Jehan whispered tensely, tears forming in his eyes and bracing himself for a punch.

"A rally?" practically screamed Montparnasse. "The ones your old friends do?"

Jehan nodded, eyes staring at his feet to avoid to looking at Montparnasse. He knew he would only find fury and anger if he looked up.

"That's unacceptable, Jehan! I work so hard to make money for me and you. All you have to is the few simple things that I ask. Do you really care more for people you don't even see anymore than making dinner for me? You know I get hungry when I get home and I expect dinner!"

At the end of that speech, Montparnasse grabbed Jehan's arm and forcefully threw him on the ground, his whole body blazing with more fury than Jehan had ever seen before.

"M-Monty, I-I'm sorry!" Jehan shouted, hoping to calm him down before he did anything drastic.

"It's too late for that, Jehan! You've showed where you're loyalties lie, and they're obviously not with me!" Montparnasse roared while kicking Jehan over and over.

Jehan didn't have the power or the will to move, so he just layed limply on the floor, becoming more battered than he already was.

He cared no more for what happened to him amd almost cried out in joy when a heavy kick was landed upon his face and black spots danced into his vision. Maybe if he passed out, he wouldn't have to wake up. Now he found that he delighted in the kicking, forbeach sharp kick brought him closer to the sweet release of death.

But then the pain stopped coming. He felt no more kicks and he wondered why, so he forced his eyes to open, gazing dizzly through the spots in his quickly decreasing vision.

Montparnasse was above him holding the knife that Jehan was cutting vegetables with before Montparnasse came home.

Before he blacked out, he saw Montparnasse's arm swing down.

A bloody smile graced Jehan's delicate features; the last one he would ever give.

Jehan felt a sharp pain in his neck, and then he was no more.

Jean Prouvaire had finally found the sweet release he was waiting for.

**Author's Note:**

> The last bit of the fic will be out incredibly soon.


End file.
